User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Mossflower Country & Beyond: Unleash the Beasts of War/@comment-1298206-20141220013338/@comment-2246928-20141225201356

The snow had just only started to melt upon the banks of River Moss.

No ice could have ever held the strong currents of Mossflower's main water route, but the land had certainly seen its fair share of suffocating snowfall as the long Winter months lagged on, creating a thick, freezing blanket of frostbite and misery, killing grass and halting travel.

Most prefered the warmth of Redwall Abbey during the wintertime, but the otters of Howl Riverwolf had had other plans in mind. Stories of a fearsome beast with claws of steel and a roar that splinter tree trunks began to slowly break the surface, and much like Log-a-Log Triggerfish, the eccentric, exceptionally-mustached patriarch of the GUOSIM tribes, Howl and his creatures shared a common interest- Safety for those under their command.

They traveled alongside Triggerfish and his rowers for a good two weeks, finding nothing, but just when they were preparing to cast aside the tales as nothing but petty rumor, they stumbled upon just what they were looking for.

Deep in the Northern Mossflower territories, upon the dripping riverbanks, they found a prone fox of a caliber they had never once seen the likes of before- Tall, muscular, and white from nosetip to the very tip of his smooth, bushy tail. The otter and shrew parties docked their logboats and rafts, and Triggerfish and the Skipper bound the white beast.

While the shrew Bream heated up a rapier over a small fire, the mustachioed Log-a-Log beat their prisoner soundly into awakefulness. Fixing him with a hawk-eyed stare, he made a gesture to Howl, blowing icy steam through his mustache. "Take de lead, Skippah."